


Only Human

by oceanicmars



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: (edit: 7/10 as i write a new chapter), Abuse, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Fake AH Crew, Fear of Abandonment, Gen, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, Past Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trauma, and i just vented out/wrote my frustrations with him as the main character, as i said ray is my writing muse, does it become shippy later? m aybe? i dont know myself, fear of attachment, in fact all ryan wishes to do is help ray and they have a strong platonic relationship, so heads up, so hopefully those tags cover everything, this isn't very shippy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-31 08:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6463393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanicmars/pseuds/oceanicmars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immortality is either a curse and a blessing. Perhaps both. Ray never really did figure out where he stood when it came to that topic. All he knew was that he absolutely hated it.<br/>-- --- --<br/>Immortal Fake AH Crew AU - Ray is something of my writing muse, whenever I want to vent out or just write in general, he's always my main character.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this fic has some personal experiences of mine, some fictional aspects, and overall was just my way to vent out everything that was bothering me while turning it to a story. it's very long, and i dont know if the second chapter (which exists, i just need to finish it up) will match it's length, but hey! vent writing. always good, yeah?  
> the tags had many trigger warnings, but once again this fic deals with suicide, depression, anxiety, abuse... everything that should be noted before you read. if you're okay with this, well, go right ahead. thank you for reading this venting fic of mine, haha,

Being immortal is both a blessing and a burden.

Don’t get him wrong, no, Ray became somewhat amused by the whole notion after coming to terms with his predicament. You could shoot him in the head, blow him up to tiny pieces, but nothing worked. He would feel the sweet embrace of death for about ten seconds before waking up, heart beating once more, wounds healed and closed. He couldn’t die. 

So eventually, he came to the conclusion to just abuse this ability God gave him and wreck havoc.

 

He remembers going to the shooting range and practicing at age eighteen, a few weeks after he learned of his immortality. A lot of people snickered and sneered at him, being a scrawny kid with glasses a bit too big for his face. But after a few months of just perfecting his aim, testing every weapon, a lot of people just accepted his presence or ignored him. That was when he felt confident to purchase his first gun. 

He couldn’t buy it in stores, no, he remembers going to some alleyway in the middle of the night. The guy he hoped to meet with was there. 

Ray knew the stories, he knew Los Santos was a shitty place to live. Laws were easily disregarded, you could find whatever you wanted if you knew where to look. That’s how you survived in this city.

So Ray gave the man a large roll of cash he had saved up over the years, just enough for the handgun. The man said nothing when he handed him the weapon. They parted ways, and Ray never saw him again. 

And then, a few days later, Ray shot a gas station clerk in the head. No warning, no mercy. Once the clerk was down, dead, Ray remembers breaking the cash register open and shoving cash in his pockets. He ran, and never looked back.

 

Nobody caught him. He wore a mask, so it’s a bit to be expected. But Ray had committed his first crime that day, and he had succeeded. It made his shitty life a bit brighter.

His life continued on like that. Kill a clerk, take some cash, run. In no time he had enough money to buy a decent apartment for himself, as well as purchase some more weapons. Eventually, his hands landed on the pink sniper rifle, the weapon that would shape his presence in the city.

He practiced hours upon hours with that thing once he found out how fun it was. His favorite pastime with it was sitting on a roof, and watching people fall down one by one, a single bullet lodged in their head. His bullet. 

And unlike Ray, they would never wake up. 

 

The thought sickened and amused Ray greatly.

 

Years pass. He’s twenty-one now. Or, he would be. He didn’t know if immortality meant he would never grow old. 

People know him as Brownman. Not the scariest title to hear, but those who knew what he was capable of usually shit themselves when they hear the name. But hey! Good news was that Ray was living a pretty decent life now. No longer pissed at the world, he just came to terms with his immortality. It wasn’t too bad.

Or, at least, that’s what he thought until he shot Geoff Ramsey in the head.

 

It scared Ray honestly. He had been watching some party on another roof, everyone was drinking and dancing, it was easy prey for a sniper. He just aimed at the most drunkest looking one, who had pretty neat tattoos, and fired. He remembers blood splattering everywhere, people started screaming. The usual. Nothing too spectacular really.

He just continued to pick them off one by one, and when he had his fill, made his way down from his perch and away from the scene. That was the plan at least. Instead, when he turned the corner of the alley he was walking down, he bumped right into a tall, messy haired man, helping the man with sweet tattoos from earlier walk. 

Who was alive, Ray noted.

 

Ray whipped his handgun out and shot the tattooed man once more in the head. He fell limp, and the tall one dropped him, hands held in the air.

“What the bloody hell man?!” tall man cried out, “That’s just messed up!”

“Shut up,” Ray hissed, aiming the gun at him, “Who are you?”

“Nobody! Well, I mean, I am someone, but I’m nobody that you should care about--”

“Shut up!”

 

Ray was about to fire, get rid of the witness, before his gun was snatched out of his hands. He flinched, backing up quickly, and glared at the man who took his weapon. Tattooed man was rubbing his head, groaning, as he examined the handgun. 

“This ain’t a toy kids should play with,” he grumbled, “Twice in a fuckin’ day, just my luck. At least I sobered up.”

“I mean, that’s good ain’t it?” tall one said, smiling nervously, “I’m still a bit woozy, but that’s why I have you!”

“Sure. Anyways, kiddo--”

Ray punched tattooed man straight in the face, stole his gun back, and booked it. They called after him, but he didn’t stop. He ran, and ran, and ran, until he was out of breath and his feet screamed in pain. He collapsed into dirt, tears involuntarily falling from his eyes, from running like a maniac or from fear, he didn’t know.

 

There were others like him.

Other who would never die, immortal like him.

 

This was _not_ good.

 

He took some time before slowly sitting up, and observing his surroundings. So far, nobody was around, which was relieving. He took deep breaths of air, before standing up once more and heading home. He would forget about this incident, sleep it off, and just go back to his usual routine. That was the plan.

Life fucking _loved_ to shit on Ray though.

* * *

 

The very next fucking day, in the bright ass early hours of the morning, that tattooed fucker rang his goddamn doorbell. Ray shut the door before the man could even say a word. 

How did they find him?! Was it because he knew about their, well, the man’s immortality? Either way, Ray quickly entered his kitchen and grabbed a knife, before heading back to the door. Deep breath in, shallow breath out. 

He opened the door and pulled someone in, slitting their throat before they could scream. Warm blood spilled onto his hands, his floor, but he didn’t care as he let the body drop, glaring at the second man.

 

Tattooed man just eyed him curiously. Which meant Ray just killed the tall one.

“Proud of yourself?” tattoo man asked, “I mean, that was a clean kill. Pretty nice for someone your size, age, whatever. Can I come in now?”

“What do you want?” Ray asked coldly, gripping the knife tightly, “Why did you find me.”

“Well, when someone shoots you twice in the head for no fuckin’ reason, I think it’s reasonable to hunt the fucker down.”

“You should be dead.”

“As you can see, I’m not.”

“Your partner’s dead though.”

“Er, about that.”

 

He pointed behind Ray, and Ray whipped around to see the tall one stand up, rubbing his neck and groaning. Ray took a startled step back, almost crashing into tattooed man. He watched as the man cough some blood out, and wiped the blood clean from his throat, the cut missing as if it were never there.

“Geoff!! Don’t shove me in front of the door if you know that they’re gonna hurt me!!” he cried, crossing his arms, “That’s bloody rude!”

Ray stared at the man before him, in awe. Both of them were immortals. Just like him. There were people in this world who were like him, unable to die. All living life, cursed, blessed…

The tattooed man, Geoff, placed a hand on Ray’s shoulder. Ray didn’t even flinch, nor did he move. 

 

He was losing. 

 

“So, er, kiddo,” he began, “You have two options. One, you forget about us and live on, ignoring our, uh, special condition. Or, number two, you die right here, by my hand, right now.”

Ray smirked. Die right here? 

 

He wished.

 

“What about option three?” he asked, and before Geoff could say another word, Ray whipped around and stabbed him in the throat, lodging the knife deep within him, before sprinting off. He heard the tall one cry something out, but once again, he was on the run, fleeing from men who were like him.

 

… Wouldn’t people normally rejoice at knowing they weren’t alone? But, then again. Ray was used to being alone. Liked it a lot too.

But honestly? Deep down, he knew just didn’t want to be disappointed.

 

“Move!” he yelled, before shoving a man in a leather jacket aside. The man was easily pushed away, not a sound of protest, and Ray realized his left hand had touched something wet. He didn’t have time to check though, not right then, so he kept running. He kept his hand gripped tightly though, to check what exactly this liquid was.

He ran into a dark alleyway, and hid himself beside a garbage disposal, trying to keep himself from breathing in the scent. This was when he checked his left hand.

Blood. Bright red blood coated his left hand. 

 

Ray almost screamed. Almost. After all, he had stabbed Geoff and his partner mainly with his right hand. There was no way his left hand could be even be coated in blood. Which meant that the man from earlier was either a murderer or was dying. And for some reason, that scared Ray. The man had been walking in broad daylight, for all the world to see. If he was a murderer, he was a riskier man than Ray ever could be--

“Found you,” a voice murmured, and Ray looked up just in time to see a gun aimed at his temple, “I gave you a choice. Sorry kiddo.”

The sound of a gunshot filled Ray’s ears, and all worries and thoughts faded away to black.

 

For at least ten seconds, that is.

 

When Ray reawoke, he kept very still and silent. There were still people around, he heard muffled voices around him. If he moved, he’d reveal his immortality. He had to be careful.

“I guess we should call in Burnie’s group to dispose the lad,” someone said, sighing, “Shame. He was pretty decent at killing. He got me like, three times?”

“That’s cause you’re oblivious,” another voice chimed in, “And stupid, and naive. Oh, and most importantly, you stay way to relaxed around strangers.”

“Shut the fuck up, jesus Jack, you’re so fuckin’ mean to me.”

“It’s not exactly a lie though,” someone said (god, so many voices, make it stop), “You’re lucky you’re immortal Geoff. Otherwise you’d be fucked!”

“I’d be dead idiot.”

 

Ray opened one eye, just to see what was happening. Before him were five men, unmasked, casually talking around him. They were most likely a gang. Once he focused on them, he saw the tattooed man from earlier, as well as his lankey partner. The three others, he had never seen before… 

Actually, there was one with a familiar looking leather jacket. Perhaps he was the one from earlier, the bloody one. Ray couldn’t help but feel like life really, really wanted to ruin his day. _Why this?_

Either way, Ray remained still, pretended to be dead, shut his eyes once more and kept breathing to a minimum. He needed to escape these fuckers without them knowing.

 

“Anyways, Geoff, what are we gonna do with the guy?” someone said, and Ray felt someone kneel in front of him, “He looks really young. Think he was just a kid surviving on the streets?”

“Michael, I’m pretty sure he’s almost your age, but who the fuck knows? I just know he shot me from the rooftops, on the streets, then stabbed me. He’s a dick.”

Ray bit the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. The man, Geoff? Whatever, he knew that Ray was the sniper. But how? He has remained hidden, nobody ever caught onto him!

 

“Think he’s Brownman?”

“I… I didn’t think of that.”

“Damnit Geoff!! You wanted to recruit Brownman, and now, he might be fucking dead!! Why are you so--”

“Look!! He hurt me a lot!! I just wanted to do him in, cause like, y’know!!”

“I don’t know!! Goddamnit Geoff!!”

The man who was before him left. But that was soon replaced with someone else. Ray was getting real annoyed with how these fuckers remained around him, disrespecting the dead. 

Well, _somewhat_ dead, not really, whatever.

 

A finger brushed over his forehead, moving his hair out of the way. Ray kept still, as best as he fucking could, but his heart was beating so hard he could’ve sworn the guy before him heard it.

“Are you okay?” a low, rugged voice asked. 

Was this guy asking him if he was okay? He was dead!! Well, sorta. There was no fucking way he’s okay. _Shit_.

Ray remained quiet.

“You don’t have to fake anymore. They all went to get the car,” the voice continued, “You’re pretty good. Are you Brownman? Geoff really wants to recruit you.”

This man _must_ be deranged.

“He’d be happy knowing you’re immortal like him. Y’know, he isn’t hunting down people who are immortals, but he somehow found those exact people. Funny, isn’t it? Oh, uh, I’m Vagabond, by the way. Or Mad King. It switches depending on the news channel.”

 

Vagabond? Mad King? He knew those names. They belonged to the mass murderer, belonging to the notorious relentless Fake AH Crew. This man was the most dangerous one, the one who loves to kill, who laughed at the deaths of others. 

He was a bit like Ray.

 

“So uh, either way, I’m telling Geoff you’re immortal, so it’s best if you wake up now.”

“How did you know?” Ray grumbled out, opening his eyes slowly to the man talking to him, “The others didn’t realize.”

“I’m just that good,” Vagabond said, and smiled kindly at Ray, “Are you okay?”

 

He was handsome, that’s for sure.

The man before him, Vagabond, had beautiful blue eyes. Some dark blonde, brownish hair fell in front of his face, but most of it was held back in a ponytail. His nose was a  bit crooked, his jaw was strong, and his five o’clock shadow helped enhance his features a bit more. He was taller than Ray, that much was obvious, bigger too, in the sense of muscle. He could easily break someone like Ray.

 

“Hello? Earth to Brownman,” Vagabond said, still smiling, “Did Geoff scramble your brains or something?”

“I’m fine,” Ray hissed out, “I don’t want to join your stupid gang though, or be known as immortal. Leave me alone.”

“Can’t do that,” Vagabond said, “Geoff is real determined to have you in our crew. Said it’d be fun with a sniper around.”

“I said I don’t want to be in your gang!”

“And I said I won’t leave you alone.”

Ray glared at the man, who smirked at him. 

“I would kill you if I could,” Ray snapped.

“Well, I’d just come back. It doesn’t work. You know the drill.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

 

Vagabond laughed. Ray couldn’t believe this nonsense. He really, really hated his fucking life. What the fuck had he done to deserve this?

“Fine,” Ray said, “I’ll join you stupid crew. On one condition though.”

Vagabond tilted his head, waiting for Ray to say something. 

“ _You_ become my partner.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. In the Fake AH Crew, you’ll be my partner. You’ll go on personal heists with me, you’ll work with me, and we’ll be a team.”

“Why me?”

“You’re the one who’s forcing me to join. May as well. And you’re a bit like me.”

“Am I now?”

“Yeah. You are.”

“Alright then. Deal.”

 

And with that, Vagabond brought Ray to the others. They were all ecstatic, another immortal like them. Ray faked a smile and acted like he was happy. He dared not make eye contact with Vagabond, who he soon learned was name Ryan Haywood. Geoff Ramsey and Gavin Free, who was the tall one Ray killed earlier, easily forgave Ray. They said that it was understandable, and that they were happy he wasn’t dead. They introduced him to Michael Jones and Jack Pattillo, who were also happy to meet him. They were all so fucking happy. 

Ray couldn’t help but envy them.

 

“So what’s your real name?” Gavin asked, and Ray bit his tongue.

“Brownman,” he replied calmly, and he ignored to quizzical, judgemental stares from Geoff and Jack.

“Oh come on! We told you our real names, least you can do is tell us yours!”

“No. Just call me Brownman for now.”

Gavin scoffed, and Ray looked at the ground. He had no obligation to tell them his real name. In fact, he didn’t even want to join the crew in the first place. Why should he just open up to them?

“Now now,” Ryan began, “Give the kid a break. He just joined us after all. It's not exactly easy to open up to the guys who shot his brains out.”

With that, the easygoing, light mood returned. Everyone acted as if Ray was part of them now, like they were all chummy. It was an odd feeling. Ray felt conflicted about it.

 

They gave him a room in their giant ass apartment. It was small, simple, they told him he could personalize it however he wanted. They showed him around, told him the rules, and just… 

They made him feel home.

He’s never felt at home anywhere.

It confused him.

He wanted to cry that night because of it.

Out of frustration, confusion, fear, he didn’t really know. 

 

The next day too. And the day after that. Every single fucking day that passed, every time they showed him kindness, he lay in bed about to cry. He hated it. He wasn’t used to it and he wanted it to end.

So a few weeks after these conflicted, stupid fucking feelings, in the middle of the night, he left the house. He walked far away from any civilization whatsoever, until he was in the middle of nowhere, the stars shining brightly above him. It was beautiful.

Ray looked around to make sure nobody was around, make sure nobody tailed him.

 

_ He was immortal. _

Taking a deep breath in, he pulled out his handgun. He stared at it, snorted, and took another deep breath. 

_ He would never die. _

He breathed all the air in his lung out, and aimed the barrel of the gun at his temple.

Even for just ten seconds. Just a little bit of time. He wanted to feel nothing, be free of stress and emotion.

Another deep breath.

 

… Y’know, now that he thought about it, he did see immortality as a curse.

 

He fired the gun.

Everything went black. Every thought faded. Everything he held in for the past few weeks? Gone. Just like that.

And then, he woke up.

 

He groaned, and sat up, rubbing his head. Even if he could never die, it didn’t mean that shit hurt. But, it was the quickest, easiest way to end it all. End it all for ten seconds at least.

He stared up at the stars.

They sparkled brightly, beautifully, as if to mock him. And he snapped.

 

“Why?” he asked, “Why me? Why did you make me of all people immortal? What was the fucking point?”

He stood up, angry tears filling his eyes.

“Do you like seeing me suffer?! What the everloving fuck did I do to you, huh?! What did I do to deserve this?!!”

He shot up at the sky. Once, twice, three times. And then, in pure frustration, he threw his gun down. His body trembled as he let silent, angry tears fall from his eyes. Damnit. God Damnit.

 

Being immortal sucked ass when you want to die.

* * *

 

Ray learned about his immortality when he was seventeen. He remembers swallowing a lot of sleeping pills, and laying down on the floor beside them, the world turning dark. He remembers smiling out of pure spite, relieved it was finally going to end. When he finally passed away, well, that was it. He was gone.

And then, he took a sharp breath of air, and awoke once more.

 

He lay there, astounded, shocked. No. This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be alive. He should’ve died, he finally was able to die. Why was he alive?

Maybe it was a fluke.

So the next day, he jumped off his apartment building into the alleyway below. The wind scratched and tore at his skin as he fell, and he closed his eyes before hitting the ground. It hurt, it fucking hurt so much when he landed, but even though he felt the immense pain, it was only for a split second. Everything went black once more.

Then he woke up.

 

He lay in his own small pool of blood, staring up at the night sky. The stars sparkled, as if to tease him for this curse. He almost screamed, but instead, he got up and ran from the scene. Once he got far away, out into the open, empty world, away from anyone, he screamed and cried until he collapsed.

He felt so lost and confused, angry as well. He tried to kill himself so many times, tried to end it all. He had been prepared so long ago, he was so close. And yet, he continued to live on. 

 

_ Why? _

 

The question echoed in Ray’s head everyday. 

At age eighteen, he decided he’d just go for it. Have fun. Or at least try. He bought a gun, he shot up innocent people. They died. They never came back. 

But he always did. 

That wasn’t fair. Honestly, perhaps he reveled at their deaths because he envied them. They never woke up again, that was it. Once they were dead, it was over. 

And yet these people all had a reason to live, had a drive to push on. Despite that, they weren’t immortal. Not like Ray. He hadn’t wanted to live. He wanted to die. But he never could. 

How fucking unfair was that?

 

But here’s his new dilemma.

He joined the Fake AH Crew. He was growing attached to them. He felt like he had a reason to live now, a reason to not want death.

And that scared him.

 

All these years, he had been so alone. He hadn’t felt any connections to anyone. He remained that way too, so that way, maybe, just maybe, his immortality would run out. Maybe one day, he’d just be dead. No waking up, no healed wounds. It’d be over, just like that.  Just like regular people.

And now, being in this stupid gang, he actually felt needed. He felt wanted, validated. That was so foreign to Ray that it scared him. Terrified him really. 

He truly expected them all to betray him one day. This trust that was being built? It reminded him too much of the reason he wanted to die in the first place.

 

It’s a simple story really.

He trusted his family. Then they failed him. 

 

So yeah. Ray didn’t want to be near anyone, didn’t want to form any bonds with people. They would all betray him one day. Something would happen, and the happiness, the trust built, it would all disappear. After all, the one person who he trusted more than anyone?  They destroyed Ray.

 

* * *

 

“Morning Brownman,” Ryan began, a bit chirpier than usual, “How are you?”

“Fine,” Ray said, playing with his DS, leaning back in his seat. Ryan hummed, and a few seconds later, he sat beside Ray, watching him play his game. When the “Game Over!” screen flashed at Ray, he glared at Ryan, who ignored Ray and asked, “What are you doing?”

“A video game,” Ray murmured, starting it up again, “Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“Do you need something?”

“No.”

“Then can you leave?”

“No.”

 

Ray paused his game to flip Ryan off, who just chuckled. Ray became irritated.

“Why?” he asked, hoping Ryan could sense his anger. But Ryan grinned, and that pissed Ray off so much. 

“Because we’re partners. Geoff told me to stay by your side.”

“Well don’t. When I said we were partners, I meant on heists. Other than that? I don’t need you hovering around me. Leave me alone.”

“Can’t do that. Boss’s orders.

“Well where is he? I’ll talk to him myself!!”

“He’s out. You’re stuck with me.”

Ray groaned, and wiped his face.

 

Wherever Ray went, Ryan followed. The only places Ryan refused to follow were to the bathroom and to Ray’s room. At least he respected privacy. But other than that? Ryan was by his side. He stayed with Ray, talked to him. It pissed Ray off. 

It made him happy too.

He was getting scared again.

 

Everytime Ray tried to talk to Geoff about it, the Gent was either busy with something, or changed the subject. It was as if he wanted to avoid the topic. He probably was.

It wasn’t just Ryan though. Almost everyone hovered around Ray, invited him to hang out. They all pestered him, they all genuinely liked him. Ray wanted to be left alone. But as time passed, he found himself enjoying their presence. He laughed with them, genuinely smiled, he even let his guard down around them. 

There were days he wished he could open up to them. But he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, he could never crack open. It killed him. 

How ironic.

 

A few months passed. Ray was at his breaking point again. Everything scared him, he had gotten too attached to the Fake AH Crew. He needed to leave. He needed to get away from them, from Ryan Haywood.

He went to his place, underneath the stars, away from everything. He took his gun out, and aimed it as his head.

 

He couldn’t fire for once in his life.

 

His hand shook so hard, that Ray began to panic.

If he died, if he really died, would they be sad? Would the crew mourn him? Would they actually cry for him?

Would Ryan be upset?

 

He threw the gun away and sank to his knees. Damnit, damnit, damnit!! He covered his face and kneeled over, tears falling from his eyes.

He wanted to die. He always wanted to die.

 

But now? 

He wasn’t so sure.

 

He returned home after that. His eyes were puffy, he kept sniffling. A small little hiccup escaped him once in awhile.

When he got back though, Ryan stood in the kitchen, as if waiting for Ray. He stared at the man. 

“Why are you up?” Ray asked.

“Heard someone go out,” he murmured, “Or, I heard you go out. So I waited to see when you’d get home.”

“Do you do that for everyone?”

“Sometimes. Not always.”

Ray just nodded, and began to head to his room.

 

“Brownman?” Ryan called. Ray looked back at him, and Ryan sighed, before saying, “Are you okay?”

Ray nodded.  “I’m fine,” he lied.

 

* * *

 

Ray got too close to the Fake AH Crew.

That was the issue here. He needed to remove them, extract them from his life. So he planned to betray them on a heist one day. They would hate him, and he wouldn’t have a reason to go on. It was simple! Ray could do this.

When the day came though, as he sat perched on the roof, gun aimed at the back of Gavin’s head, he froze. He stared at the crew from his scope, all masked but happily working away and communicating like a family.

Ray was a part of this family now.

That freaked him out. 

 

When they returned home from the heist, he said he needed time alone. He went to his room, and laid in bed, smoking a whole pack of cigarettes in one go. Smoke filled his lungs and burned his throat, his room was clouded, but he didn’t care. Perhaps he had reached some sort of high, a fake drunken high he created to feel light headed and free. He giggled as he blew smoke out of his mouth, smiled at the way the smoke curled and swirled around him.

This fake bliss pissed him off after the last cigarette. 

He got up, and opened his window. The cool breeze of Los Santos entered his room, dragging the smoke outside and cleansing his room. He stared down through, into the streets, his throat burning. He could jump. He’d come back though, as well as cause a scene. That was stupid. 

He looked out at the horizon now. 

 

What drove people to live on? What purpose is there to living life? Why couldn’t he die, but others could?

In fact, why did this crew never die?

Ray left the window, and exited his room. It was eerily quiet in the apartment, so assuming everyone was asleep, he quietly made his way to the door. 

 

“Brownman?” a voice said, and Ray jumped, almost taking his gun out and firing at the man. Instead, he glared at Ryan Haywood, who sat on the couch, reading a book or something.

“You were up?” he asks, and Ray nods before he continues, “Oh. Well, Geoff and the others went to go celebrate the heist. They aren’t here for now, but they’ll be home around--”

“You didn’t go with them?” Ray asked, not caring about what the others did.

“Didn’t want to. Not without my partner.”

“Why?”

“Someone’s gotta watch you.”

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

“Well, it’s my choice. You can’t stop me.”

Ray took his gun out, and stormed over to Ryan’s side. He aimed at the man’s forehead. Ryan just watched him, calm.

 

“I could kill you right now, and escape from you,” Ray threatened, “Ten seconds is all I need to make a quick run for it.”

“Then do it.”

Ray flinched. He retracted his gun, but did not put it away. Instead he watched Ryan, who stared at him with stern eyes.

“Why?” Ray asked again quietly.

“Because I want to,” Ryan said.

Ray bit the inside of his cheek, before putting his gun away. Ryan sighed, sounding relieved, and leaned back into the couch.

“You’re fucked up,” Ray muttered, “I hate you.”

Ryan just chuckled.

“I get that a lot,” he said, “But it stings the most when it comes from your own partner.”

Ray smiled at that.

 

“You doing okay?” Ryan suddenly asked, and Ray’s smile flattened. He looked away, unsure how to respond. But, he smiled once more, faking it--

“Don’t do that,” Ryan suddenly said, “Stop.”

Ray blinked, before looking at Ryan curiously. The man was frowning at him, arms crossed. Ray felt like he was a child again, being scolded by a parent.

He almost begun to panic at that thought.

 

“Stop what?” Ray asked, confused.

“That bullshit.”

“What bullshit?!”

“Lying to me.”

“Oh.” 

 

_ Oh _ .

So he knew.

 

“I mean,” Ray scratched the back of his head, “What do you want me to do?”

“Be honest with me,” Ryan said, “Open up to me. I’m your partner aren’t I? You can trust me.”

_No_ , Ray thought, _I really can’t._

“I’ll try,” he lied.

“No you won’t.”

“Wha-- I said I’d try!”

“You don’t really mean it though, do you?”

Ray was getting frustrated. God damn, what did this man want from him? A sob story?! 

 

“Well, fuckin’, how can I prove to you I mean it?”

“What’s your name?”

Ray stared at Ryan, dumbfounded.

“Your name?” Ryan asked again. 

“Uh, R-Ray. My name is Ray. Why are you--”

“So it’s not really Brownman. Gavin owes me twenty dollars now.”

Ray snorted at that, and Ryan grinned.

“You had a bet on my name?” he asked.

“Well, Gavin was beginning to believe your name really was Brownman. I told him he’s fucking stupid.”

“He is! What kind of idiot would think Brownman was really someone’s name.”

“Gavin’s a special person.”

“Obviously.”

 

Ray laughed a bit, the conversation so stupid. It made him feel light, happy, he forgot his troubles in this moment. When he looked at Ryan, the man was smiling softly at him. His heart honestly skipped a beat at the sight. Fuck.

“W-what?” Ray asked, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“I rarely see you laugh like this. It’s a nice change from frowny face Brownman.”

“ _Frowny face_ Brownman.”

“Well, I had pissy grump, but frowny face Brownman sounded a bit lighter.”

“That’s so stupid!”

“You like it.”

Ray just smiled. That wasn’t a lie.

 

“I hate you Ryan.”

“Aw, I thought you were finally falling in love with me.”

“In your dreams.”

 

* * *

 

Maybe you can call Ray’s predicament a fear of attachment. He could not, nor did he feel like he could ever form a bond or attachment to someone. It terrified him, made him sick.

So the fact he was actually getting along with the Fake AH Crew, becoming close to them? He was ready to flip the fuck out really.

Ray sat down one day and wrote out how he felt on paper. Just to try and calm down.

He decided to write how everyone treated him.

 

Geoff was a father figure. He cares and loves this team like they were his own children. He would come sit beside Ray and ask him how he was, ask how he was holding up. Despite Ray’s attempts to push him away, brush him off, Geoff persisted. He wanted to be a part of Ray’s life. He wanted to care for Ray.

If Geoff was the father, Jack was the motherly figure of this gang. While Geoff persisted in knowing how you felt, hearing your own words, Jack watched carefully. And he was good at it. They were days Ray felt out of it, and Jack would come over to converse with him, cheer him up. He was smart, he was kind, and he wanted to make sure everyone was okay by doing something.

Michael became a close companion. Work buddy? Ray didn’t know. But Michael managed to worm his way to Ray’s heart and make him feel like the lad was a bit special compared to the others. He was loud, but he was also soft, he cared deeply for everyone and wanted to protect them all. Ray remembers asking him what drove him to be this hero, and Michael just said he wants to make sure the people he loves were okay.

Gavin? He was dumb. But he was funny, he was curious, and he liked Ray. He would always sit beside Ray when he could, always stay beside him, joke with him. It was annoying, and it made Ray happy. He also had a scary good sense of how Ray felt. If Ray was sad, he was sad until he cheered Ray up. If Ray was mad, he’d be pissed at whatever Ray was mad at. If it was him who Ray was pissed off at though, he always shrunk away, like a kicked puppy. Ray couldn’t stay mad at that.

And then, there was Ryan fucking Haywood.

 

He was the worst of the bunch. He always, always bothered Ray. Always stayed beside him, always talked to him, hell, he waited for Ray to get out of his room before starting his own day. It drove Ray insane, it made him so angry half the time. But it also made him happy, made him feel special. And god, that was fucking terrifying, more than anything Ray knew.

 

He wasn’t okay with these bonds he was forming. He wasn’t okay with how everyone grew attached to him. With his fucking mindset, with his desire for death, this situation would end in tragedy. He knew this. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to separate away from them.

Ray needed to make them hate him.

He slammed his head into the desk, crumpling the paper where he wrote down everything. He wanted to continue to slam his head into his desk, maybe break his head open. But that would draw too much attention.

  
Instead, he threw the paper ball at the door, and slipped into bed. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep.

* * *

 

Ray had so many moments where he could easily betray the Fake AH Crew’s trust.

Take today for example. In the kitchen, where he ran into Jack, he could of easily taken a knife and jammed it in the bearded man’s neck. Or on the couch, where Geoff was watching TV, Ray kept his gun on him at all times, he could blow the gent’s brains out.  He didn’t. Instead he watched TV alongside Geoff, both making small occasional comments about the news.

Another example was when Gavin fell asleep on his shoulder. At that moment, he could’ve murdered Gavin, slice his throat open, cut his heart out. He could’ve ruined Gavin.

But he didn’t.

Or when Michael and he went out to walk down the pier. Ray easily could've shot Michael and dump his body in the ocean. He could of strangled him and hurt him, tortured him.

He just laughed at Michael’s jokes, and conversed with him about video games or television shows.

Every moment given to him where he could hurt or kill the Fake AH Crew, make them hate him and cast him out… He never took it.

The one time he did snap?

Ryan Haywood forgave him.

It was in the middle of the night. He encountered the man as he tried to leave, to get air and to try and release the tension he had. He was desperate to leave. He needed to, had to. But here Ryan Haywood stood, blocking his path.

“Let me go with you,” Ryan began, “So nothing happens.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ray hissed, “Leave me alone.”

“No. It’s late, who knows what’ll happen.”

“Just leave me the fuck alone!”

“Ray, let me--”

Ray took a pocket knife out and lunged. What happened next was a shock to Ray, and terrified him when he came to his senses.

Ryan had grabbed the knife and deflected it, but blood poured from his palm as he kept a firm grip on the blade portion of the knife. He looked like he was pain, no, he had to be in pain, but he smiled at Ray like this was some silly joke.

“Don’t scare me like that,” he said, beginning to chuckle, “Thought you were gonna kill me.”

_I was_ , Ray couldn’t help but think, _I really was going to kill you. Don’t laugh at me. Hate me. Punch me, hit me, I deserve it. Don't be kind to me, **stop it.**_

“Let’s put this away, alright?” Ryan said softly, and pulled the blade out of Ray’s hands. Ray just stood there, unable to breathe.

 

“Shit, that’s gonna sting like a bitch,” Ryan murmured, examining his hand, “Oh well. I’ll be fine. You okay?”

“Me?!” Ray asked, angry, confused, sad? He didn’t know anymore, “Your hand is fucked up!! Why are you asking me?!”

“Are you okay?” Ryan repeated. 

Ray wanted to cry. **_Stop this._**

“Ray, answer my--”

“No!!” Ray almost screamed out, but kept his cool, “No, I’m not fucking okay!! I’m not, okay?! Now get the fuck away from me, treat your hand, hate me, I don’t know!! Just leave me alone!!”

Ryan said nothing. Instead, he just turned around and left. Ray stood there, shaking, breathing uneven. He bit the inside of his lip until he drew blood, and wanted to flee, run far away. But instead he stood frozen.

“What good will it do if you bleed too,” Ryan’s voice suddenly said, and Ray’s head snapped up to look at the man, who was examining Ray carefully.

“What are you--”

“Shush,” Ryan murmured, taking out a napkin, and wiping the blood around Ray’s lip, “Just let me help you for this little bit.”

Ray watched him pull his hand away, all bandaged up, and tears swelled in his eyes.

“Why?” Ray asked, “I told you to leave me alone.”

“Because I can’t,” Ryan said, “Not when you’re clearly not okay.”

Ray looked away. Ryan sighed.

“Ray, I’m here for you. If you need to talk, need help--"

“You can’t help me,” Ray said harshly, “Nobody can. This is my problem, and I have to deal with it alone.”

“Who told you that?”

Ray’s heart hurt.

“Shut up. I’m fine alone.”

“It’s okay you know. It’s okay to rely on others, to ask for help. You don’t have to hold it in.”

**_Shut up._ **

“I’m here for you Ray.”

_ Are you? _

“Ray?”

“Whatever,” Ray whispered out, before walking past Ryan back to his room.

When he shut the door behind him, he slid down, unable to cry because of how much it hurt. Instead, he sat there, staring out his window. 

Ryan was not mad. Nor did he resent Ray. In fact, he had tried to care for Ray, support him, worry for him.

 

How does one act in those situations? 

Relieved that someone noticed you're not okay?

Scared because they may find you a nuisance or a dramatic person?

Upset because you finally exploded in the end?

Ray began to scratch his arms.

He hated this. 

He just wanted to die.

 

* * *

 

“Ray.”

The lad refused to look up at Ryan, contemplating if going back to his room to hide or running out the front door was faster than the other. 

“Ray. Please look at me.”

“What do you want?” Ray finally said, glaring up at Ryan. Why he was directing his frustration at Ryan, he didn’t know. He just was.

“Are you okay?”

Again, again with that fucking question. He hated it. He hated it so much.

“I’m fine,” Ray hissed, as he left Ryan, heading down the hall to go out of the apartment. Ryan followed.

 

“Leave me alone,” Ray demanded, as he shoved car keys into his pocket.

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?! God dammit Ryan, stop being so persistent! Just leave me alone to deal with this by myself!”

“I have been, but obviously that doesn’t work.”

“It works fine for me!”

“Blowing your brains out every time you can’t take it doesn’t fucking work.”

Ray wasn’t surprised. He knew somewhere along the line Ryan knew about this. He was just mad he brought it up now.

“So? It works for me.”

“It’s not healthy.”

“It’s not like I’m going to die.”

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does.”

“Why.”

“Because I care for you! Because you need help. I _want_ to help you.”

Ray snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.”

“You don’t really fucking care. You just act like you do.”

“Why do you think like this?”

Something in Ray snapped.

“Because I just fucking do!!” he yelled, slamming his fist on the wall, “Because everyone who has fucking cared never did! They don’t and never will because I’m too fucking dramatic for them!”

“You’re not dramatic.”

“Stop it.”

“I want you to know you’re not alone.”

“I am.”

“Is that true?”

Ray looked up at Ryan, who’s eyes were soft, determined. Bile rose into his throat.

“I’ve always been alone,” he said, and the look Ryan gave him made him want to puke. He looked away. 

“Why can’t that change?”

_Because I’m scared._

“Because it won’t.”

“But it can. I want to help.”

_ I’m scared. _

“No you can’t. Please, just drop it Ryan.”

_ I’m so fucking scared. _

“Give me a chance. Trust me.”

_ I can’t. _

__

“Ryan, just stop,” Ray whisper, hating the fact his voice trembled and that he felt so small, “Please.”

“Okay. I’ll stop. I’m sorry, Ray.”

Ray wiped his eye, before handing over the keys reluctantly and storming passed Ryan. He bumped into Gavin, who looked so confused as to what he witnessed, but Ray didn’t care.

He didn’t care. He was too scared to care.

Why was he so fucked up.

“Ray!” Gavin called, and Ray’s pace sped up, “Ray, wait up!”

“What?!” Ray almost yelled, glaring daggers at the lad, who hesitated, but soon smiled. Ray felt angry once again. Fuck.

“Well, uh, I’m sorry about accidentally eavesdropping,” Gavin begun, “I-I don’t know what’s happening, but I know you can trust Ryan! He’s--”

“How much did you hear?”

“What?”

“How much did you hear.”

“Oh. Well, uh, I ran over when you had started yelling. I heard everything after that.”

Ray scratched at his arm. Fuck.

“Gavin, you don’t understand, so just drop it.”

“Well, I do know that if anything, you can trust Ryan with everything. A lot of us do.”

“Gavin, stop--”

“But you can trust us too!” Gavin said, smiling as brightly as he could, “You’re part of the family now! We’re here for you too Ray!”\

 

Family?

He wanted to rip his throat out.

“You’re not my family!!” Ray lashed out, tears escaping from his eyes, “None of you are! Stop acting like you care and just leave me alone already!”

His heart stopped, and he realized who he sounded like. No. _No no no_. Why does he always do this? Why does he end up becoming like _her_?!

He couldn’t look at Gavin, and ran to his room. Slamming the door shut, he couldn’t breathe, he was hyperventilating, fuck fuck fuck.

He collapsed onto his knees, and let himself fall to the ground, crying and breathing erratically. In fact, he felt as if he could pass out. 

He knew why. He knew fucking why he was panicking. Fuck.

How ironic that the same words could kill him.

* * *

 

He hated his family.

His father left. Wanted to pursue his own happiness, he deserved happiness, that usual bullcrap every failure of a parent said. It was just an excuse to stop caring for his wife and son. 

Things went to hell. His mother manipulated him and scared him. An immature woman, she has violent mood swings. One little mistake could end with Ray crying on the bathroom floor. She never hit him, no, she had a wicked tongue. She made him feel loved and hated at the same time. She confused Ray, she made him so scared. 

His mother was always mentally and emotionally abusing him. She made him feel invalid, made him feel like a burden. She said words that hurt so much, that Ray remembers being unable to breathe as she yelled at him. He remembers scratching at his skin, crying tears because nobody in this world wanted him. Not his father, not his mother, nobody. This went on for 18 years.

He hated her. 

And yet he loved her.

There was always a stupid, naive part in him who believed she loved him. That these hurtful words were just coming from a stressed out mother. After all, she had kept him, not like his father who threw them away. She had wanted Ray in her life. So that meant something in her loved Ray, right? He kept believing, kept trying to stay strong. He didn’t want to be alone.

But he realized his feelings meant nothing to the person who he should’ve trusted more than anyone. To the woman he believed would always back him up. It was all a futile attempt, a stupid boy trying so hard to impress his mother who could care less.

“You’re not my family,” she told Ray one day, “You’re the son of that man. Leave me alone.”

Ray remembered his world shattering. 

One day he tried to kill himself. He just wanted it to end, but there was also a strong need to spite her. A way to say “look how you fucked up.” She probably wouldn’t care but oh, how he just wanted to end this shitty life and wake up to a new, happier one.

And then? He woke up.

As time passed and he adjusted, he swore to never become like those two monsters. He would be safer alone, he would be happier without relying on anyone.

But, oh, how ironic is it that he had indeed become a monster. One who lashed out in fear of getting hurt, who said the exact words a monster once told him. 

What a fucked up world he lived in.

 

* * *

 

He heard someone knock on his door. Sitting up, he didn’t realize how much time had passed. The evening sun shone down on his bed, an orange hue making this dull room feel warm. He sat up, and answered the door.

“Hey Ray,” Geoff said, standing before the lad. Ray glared at him, hoping he was getting kicked out the gang. Probably not. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Ray murmured, letting his boss in. Geoff cautiously entered, before sitting on the bed. He motioned for Ray to join him, so he did, rather reluctantly. 

“Gavin told me what happened earlier today,” Geoff began, voice soft, “He’s really sorry.”

“He shouldn’t apologize, it was my fault. I lost my cool and lashed out at him for no reason. I should apologize.”

“Ryan told me what’s been happening too.”

Ray bit his bottom lip and looked away. Geoff was quiet, watching Ray, before sighing and leaning back somewhat.

“You know, we’re actually not sure Ryan’s immortal,” he began, and Ray couldn’t help but whip his head back to look at the man, “He’s never gotten killed. Jack says he saw Rye die one time, but to be honest, he’s not so sure. None of us are.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Ray asked.

“Because he’s desperately trying to stay alive, unlike you.”

The night where Ray almost cut Ryan to pieces flashes in his mind. He cringes.

 

“Are you comparing me to him?!” he says, trying to change his thoughts.

“No, well, kinda?” Geoff scratched the back of his head, “Ryan’s weird. He’s never wanted a partner, but when it came to you, he demanded he stay by your side. He’s the reason I wanted Brownman in the first place, he recommended to me that we hire you. I never knew why, until now. I guess he really, really wants to help you.”

“He can’t.”

“So you’ve told him. But why? What’s bothering you so much?”

Fear. Pain. _Everything_.

“Ryan probably sees something in you that we don’t see,” Geoff says, his voice a bit distant to Ray’s ears, “And from what he told me, I think he just genuinely wants to help.”

“But he can’t.”

“Are you happy with that outcome?”

Ray looked at Geoff, who looked at him nonchalantly. Ray never could read the man.

“Are you happy staying this way?”

“... I was.”

“And now?”

Ray looked at the wall, biting his tongue. 

“... Don’t push yourself kid,” Geoff murmured, “I’m just here to check on you really. Gavin was panicking that he really fucked up, that you absolutely hated him now. Michael is trying to calm him down.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah. Ain’t nobody’s fault. You got your issues, and I just hope one day we can all work together to help you.”

“Why,” Ray’s voice cracked, and he paused before continuing, not wanting to cry again, “Why are you all so nice to me?”

Geoff smiled, and placed a hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Because we’re all weird.”

The man stood up, and left the room. Ray sat there, tears silently flowing from his eyes. He took a sharp breath in, and let his hands cover his face, hiding from the world.

He wished Geoff had been his father.

 

* * *

 

Ray remained in his room for three days.

Nobody visited him, which he was grateful for. He just sat in his room, time passing by as his conscious faded in and out. One moment it was morning, the next it was sunset. This went on for these three days, as he thought over Geoff’s words.

When he finally settled on an answer, he walked out of his room. He was a bit surprised to run into Michael, who looked equally as surprised. The two stared at one another, but soon Ray broke the connection, and tried to pass by Michael.

“Ray,” Michael began, and Ray paused, “You okay?”

Ray looked at the lad, who was obviously worried, obviously concerned. It could be an act. But he didn’t want to think like this anymore. No more.

“Not really,” Ray whispered, “Sorry for worrying you. Worrying everyone really.”

“No, Ryan told us, he uh, he told us how things were between you two. And I dealt with Gavin freaking out about you too so. It’s, it’s not your fault. Don’t worry, we understand. I swear.”

Ray felt a conflict in his mind. One part was happy, relieved the others were so kind. Another screamed that it was all a ruse, an act that he would surely regret trusting.

He felt like he was going to puke.

“Michael?” he began, “Why don’t any of you hate me? Why are you all so nice?”

The lad thought about those words, the gears turning in his head before he shoved his hands in his pockets and he grinned so brightly at Ray, that he became the sun.

“I dunno!” he said, and Ray was thrown off guard, “We just are. It’s just not our style to be ruthless and cruel, we ended up becoming some weird family after all. Besides, why would we hate you? You’re only human.”

_ Only human. _

Those words meant a lot to Ray.

“I see,” he murmured, “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Let’s go walk down the piers again soon, I still haven’t won my argument about Halo.”

Ray chuckled at that, and the lad left him. He stood there, processing the words, before smiling. Only human, huh?

Ironic words, coming from a fellow immortal.

He headed into the kitchen, and grabbed a glass off the shelf. Filling it with tap water, he drank quickly, not realizing how parched he was. He ended up drinking more than he expected, furiously gulping down everything.

“You’re gonna get sick,” a voice said, and he turned to face Ryan Haywood, who stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

Ray wiped his mouth, and turned the water off, facing the man head on. Ryan made no response, instead watching Ray carefully.

“I’m sorry,” Ray said.

“For what?” Ryan asked.

“Everything.”

“That’s quite vague now isn’t it.”

“But it’s true. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve said, I’m sorry.”

Ryan said nothing, but perhaps that was for the better. Instead, Ray began to scratch at his arms, before looking away.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he asked, “Why haven’t you abandoned me yet?”

“... I saw you kill yourself before you joined the Fake AH Crew. It was on accident, I stumbled upon you by pure chance. It was after a heist, my car died down, and I walked out to the field and you, you shot yourself in the head. It terrified me.”

Ray couldn’t face Ryan. He didn’t want to know what kind of face the man was making.

“When you stood up, like nothing happened, I realized that you were like us.”

Geoff’s words echoed in his head.

“Are you immortal?” Ray blurted out, before blushing and biting his tongue. Fuck. 

But Ryan laughed, a deep rumbling noise that echoed throughout the room. “Geoff told you, didn’t he?” he began, “I really don’t know. Nobody does. I think I am, but it’s either that or I have ridiculously good luck.”

“I bet it really pissed you off when you saw me kill myself,” Ray said, his brain on autopilot. He didn’t even know what he said until he said it. Another fuck. 

“I felt bad for you. Seeing your disappointment as you stood up really shook me. I tried desperately to find you, and well, I did.”

“Why? I’m nobody to you.”

“You’re someone. That was good enough for me.”

Ray looked at Ryan now, and was shocked at how sincere he looked. His heart twisted and his stomach rolled. Everything hurt.

“You’re weird,” Ray let out, tears stinging his eyes. Ryan laughed, and nodded.

“So I’m told. But it does sting when your own partner says that.”

“Oh shut up.”

“You like it.”

Ray couldn’t disagree.

A few moments passed, and Ray made his way over to Ryan. The gent watched him carefully, but Ray wasn’t planning anything dangerous. No, instead, he hugged Ryan, burying his face into the man’s chest.

“I’m not the best person alive,” Ray began, “But if you really, really want to help me, please. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Ray felt arms wrap around him, and he was pulled in closer.

“I’m here for you,” Ryan murmured.

I hope so, Ray thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was sitting in my files for a while, i guess i meant to add on but lost the drive, so im just gonna upload what i had here. i would like to continue this, ray is my writing muse still, but we'll see.

Ray was both terrified and happy that he had opened up to the others.

Gavin had cried when he saw him, apologizing for what happened. After reassuring him countless times it’s okay, he realized that these people genuinely did care. It terrified him, it did, but he wanted to open up, he wanted to change.

Things were honestly okay. There were a lot of ups and downs, but everyone was always there for him. The entire gang was patient, they all allowed Ray to work out his problems alone when needed. Otherwise, they were always beside him, always pushing him forward. There were days he lashed out though. Took two steps back, he supposed, because honestly he felt like he had just reverted back to his old self.

 

Ryan would be the one who stayed beside him during these moments.

Ray would push him away, scream that he needed to be alone. The man was incredibly patient with him. He was so kind to Ray. He never got mad nor did he yell at the lad. He just waited until Ray broke down, crying and in need of a hug. Ryan always delivered.

 

“I don’t know how someone like me is supposed to go on,” Ray would whimper out some days, “I have no future. I have nothing for me.”

“You have the gang,” Ryan would say.

“But what if you all hate me one day?”

“You have me.”

“But you could end up hating me too.”

“Never. I’m here Ray.”

 

Ray didn’t share with anyone how much that meant to him.

 

“I want to die,” Ray would say some days.

“But you’d miss out on so much,” Ryan would

* * *

reply.

“So? I’m tired. I can’t deal with anything, I’m worthless and nobody would care.”

“You’re not worthless. I thought you were Ray.”

Ray remembers laughing.

 

“Did you make a dad joke at me?”

“Maybe.”

“I cannot believe you would make a fuckin’ dad joke when I’m a fuckin’ mess.”

“It got you to laugh.”

“It did.”

“I care Ray.”

“Do you?”

“I would never leave you.”

 

And he never did. Ryan was always by Ray’s side. Their days off, their days not heisting, Ryan just stayed by Ray. 

 

* * *

 

Ray had always wanted to die. Even if he was trying this whole new acceptance thing, the whole “let’s open up to our (possible) friends!” thing, it still was a rough ride.

He didn’t want anyone to have power over him.

If he opened up to them, if he begun to trust them and care for them, they could turn around and hurt him. Badly. The fear of opening up and loving someone again, only to have them control him and manipulate him, abuse him…

 

He wanted to be loved.

But he didn’t want to love.

 

No, that isn’t right. Ray wanted to love, he did, he wanted to open up and not fear anything. Not fear the possibility of betrayal or abuse. He wanted to just open up to someone and be happy.

But what if?

 

What if they aren’t who they act as? What if they’re cruel and manipulative and turn on him? 

He did want to open up, he wanted to love.

But as always, those words haunt him.

 

What if?

 

* * *

 

Everyone was extremely supportive. They didn’t mind the moments Ray was snappy, where he remained eerily quiet. They understood, they never forced him to do more than necessary unless needed. 

He still felt like shit though. Knowing how kind they were, even when he was just a pure, shitty person. He couldn’t even open up to them, even though they were opening up to him. It was so hard to.

He had been hurt many times before. It was hard to open up.

Nobody blamed him.

 

That made him feel shittier.

 

It didn’t help when someone asked him how he was doing. But it did at the same time. They noticed. But that wasn’t good, because then that meant he was easy to read. He had to lock up the feelings, he had to hide them away. Deal with them by himself.

 

_ Who told you that? _

 

Ray felt bile rise to his throat again and again, whenever those words echoed in his head.

“Is this really worth it?” Ray asked aloud one day while he and Ryan sat on the rooftop of some apartment, waiting for the team to get back. Ryan eyed him curiously.

“Is it really worth taking care of me? Helping me? What merit do you get? You have to deal with all this bullshit drama and my fucking bullshit.”   
  
“I don’t think dealing with your fears and needs is bullshit. Plus your emotions aren’t drama.”   
  
“Yes they are. I’m a bullshit emotional rollercoaster and you for some reason got on with me, and now you have to deal with it. Why? Is it worth it?”

“It is.”

“How?”   
  
“Because I get to help you. I don’t need a reward for helping someone in need. I just want to help."

“That makes no sense. We’re criminals, mercs, we always want a reward.”   
  
“Well, this doesn’t need a reward.”

 

Ray never understood Ryan’s thought process.

 

The others gave similar answers when asked. We want to help you, they say, we don’t think you’re dramatic or an issue. We don’t mind, they said.

But Ray was used to people lying. Saying they do care but they don’t. Hurting him, hurting him more and more than ever.

He fucking hated himself for not being able to do this “opening up” business better.

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t a stable person.

He thought he was. He really, really thought he was. But that was when he was alone, no contact, not much speaking. Just silence. He didn’t deal with others, never thought of their opinions, never worried about his actions.

Now he had to.

 

He could control himself pretty well though. It’s just that he couldn’t keep all these negative thoughts at bay. They just swam around his head, they were always there even though he acted fine. He smiled, but he wanted to claw his throat out. He laughed, and bile rose.

Ryan noticed he was faking it often.

 

“You okay?” he’d ask.

“Fine,” Ray would say.

“You sure?” he’d ask again.

“I’m fine, Ryan, leave me alone.”   


“You’re not okay.”

“Leave me alone, Ryan.”

“Talk to me.”

“No, Ryan.”

“Then I’ll give you space.”

 

When Ryan left, Ray felt alone and, honestly, sick to his stomach. But he never, ever could share these thoughts. They’d think he was unstable, they’d threaten to send him away. They’d hurt him, and call him dramatic, insult him and call him childish.

But they wouldn’t. He knew they wouldn’t.

 

But what if?

 

* * *

 

He remembers when he told his mom that he thinks he has depression.

“You’re not the only one suffering!” his mom shouted, furious, “You have depression?! You are only a child, who has everything he needs! A roof, food, and a bed! Why do you have depression?! You’re just overreacting, you want attention!”

 

He remembers telling her that he thinks they should communicate more.

“I don’t care about your feelings! You’re dramatic, you just want pity, ‘Poor me, poor me, pity me!’ You make everyone but yourself the bad guy! You’re the perfect one, right Ray?! There’s nothing wrong with you! I need to change, I need to communicate, right?!”

 

The time he said he thinks she’s abusive.

“I’ve done nothing but love you!! Give you everything you want! I care for you more than your father. If you think I’m abusive, go to him! Go live with your father! Or just go away! You don’t care about me, you just say you do!”

 

The time he said he’s sorry.

“You just say that. You don’t mean it.”

 

He said he loved her.

“Then prove it to me. Change yourself.”

 

He asked how.

“Aren’t you able to figure that out for yourself!? Think!!”

 

He said he didn’t know what to do. 

“You’ll never change. You can’t Ray, because you’re his child. You think you're perfect the way you are. Disgusting.”

 

She told him to go to his room, and not come out.

They didn’t talk for the next few days.

* * *

 

“Y’know, I love you Ray.”

 

Ray looked at Gavin in a mix of shock, repulsion, happiness, fear. The lad grinned.

“You’re my best mate! We may have gotten off on a rocky start, but you’ve been a great pal!”

“Gavin, come on, you shouldn’t pull my leg like that.”

“But I’m not.”

Ray began to bite the side of his tongue.

“It’s not something you should say so casually.”   


“Why not? I love you because you’re Ray! You make me happy!”

Is that what love is?

 

“Gav, c’mon--”

“What’s Gavin doing now?”

Both lads turned to face Geoff walk over, and Gavin grinned even more.

“I told Ray I love him!” he declared proudly, and Ray’s felt sick. Happy. Afraid? _Fuck_.

“Oh, did you now?” Geoff asked, before eyeing Ray for a moment. The lad just smiled sheepishly, and the gent shrugged, “I mean, you love everyone. Not surprised.”

“We’re family! Geoff loves you too Ray!”

_ I don’t want you to. _

“So does Jack, Michael…”

_ Leave me alone. _

“Ryan loves you a lot too Ray!”

_ You’re not my family. _

“Well, aren’t I a happy man,” Ray said, smiling. Gavin grinned, and hugged Ray. 

 

Ray decided to ignore the way Geoff looked at him that day.

* * *

 

A few days later, Geoff told Ray to accompany him to a warehouse.

As they drove, Ray began to bite his tongue again. He always picked at the left side, to the point where that area was now ugly and messed up, deformed even. Ray saw it was a form of anxiety, but he couldn’t help but laugh. No shit, it was clearly anxiety. It wasn't even debatable. Idiot.

 

“If Gavin makes you uncomfortable, you can just tell him to stop,” Geoff said, startling Ray, “He knows that when you say no, he’s suppose to stop. No means no.”

Ray looked at his boss questionably. The man just kept his eyes on the road.

“I know how to fend for myself,” Ray said, crossing his arms and looking away.

“Alright, I’ll believe when I see that you can say no and not look like you’re about to puke on my five thousand dollar carpet.”

“I wasn’t about to puke.”

“Uh huh.”

 

Ray glared at Geoff. The man still stared out at the road.

“What, did you invite me on this drive just to lecture me?!” Ray began, anger rising, “I’m an adult Geoff! I can take care of myself!”   


“I never said you couldn’t,” Geoff said, “I just said you can tell people to stop when you’re uncomfortable. We won’t get mad.”

 

_ But what if you do. _

 

“Sure,” Ray huffed out, “Whatever.”

They drove in silence for a while. Ray continued to bite away at his tongue. Maybe he should get gum, he read that it was a good alternative. Better than fucking up your tongue anyways.

“Was it your dad?” Geoff began, and Ray almost bit his entire tongue off, “Or was it--”  
  
“Stop right _fucking_ now or I’ll blow your brains out,” Ray instinctively said, his hand already resting on his handgun. When had he done so, he doesn’t know. His heart was beating so fast, he couldn’t concentrate.

“I’m guessing the latter,” Geoff murmured, garbled really, but maybe that was just Ray panicking that made it sound like that, “You don’t have to worry anymore. They aren’t here. They won’t hurt you.”

 

_ What if. _

 

“I fucking know that.”

“But your heart clearly doesn’t.”

“I’m trying to get over it!” Ray said, or was he yelling? He couldn’t hear, he couldn’t breathe.

“Ray, hey, I’m sorry--”

“No! I’m _trying_!!” he continued, covering his ears, “I’m sorry! I’ll do better!”

“Ray!!”

He saw a hand reach out for him. He felt himself violently flinch, and pulled his gun.

 

He shot his mother in the head.

 

When he came to, realize what he had done as he stared at Geoff’s shocked face, blood splattered on the window behind him, the source from the bullet hole in the middle of his forehead, he almost puked. The car had pulled over to the side luckily, so there was no need to worry about it. But he stared at Geoff, panicking. 

Now he had done it.  They’ll hate him.

 

_ … Good. _

 

He threw the door open and ran. Nobody was in these side streets, nobody would show up in the ten seconds Geoff was dead. But in those ten seconds, Ray could run. He could run and run, far from this fantasy he had lived. 

Get better? Try to change? Yeah right.

He couldn’t change. He couldn’t do good. All he could do was be selfish, hurt others, be a bad child. He could never do good. He was disgusting.

 

He ran as far as his legs could take him. The tears never stopped falling.

* * *

He laid on the dirt ground in the middle of nowhere, staring up at the stars as they twinkled and giggled down at him. He occasionally would raise his hand up to try and reach them, but he couldn’t. They were too far away.

Speaking of too far away, where was his gun? The lad looked around lazily, before spotting it right by his hand. He grabbed it, and checked to see how many bullets he had left.

 

None.

 

He tried to think why he didn’t have any. He moved his head a little bit faster to try and see if his surroundings had the answer, and heard a little splash.

Oh, right. He used all the bullets shooting himself.

 

Still immortal. That’s good.

Out of bullets though. Can’t forget about anything for a while until he gets more.

He left all his stuff at the base. Can’t get anything. Fuck.

 

He looked back up at the sky.

 

How long had he been here? 

Wasn’t it morning earlier? Or was it sunset. He couldn’t tell. 

Actually, was this the first night or second night out here? He was so confused. What time was it? Day? 

He felt numb again, and just spaced out.

 

“... R… Ra……!”

Was he imagining the voice, or was someone saying something. Maybe it was a mix of both.

“Ra….!!! Ra… y…!!!”

Oh, it’s getting louder. Not his imagination then.

“Ray!!”

Ryan was here.

 

_ Ryan  _ was here.

 

Ray shot up, getting whiplash but scrambling to get away. But it was too late.

“Ray!” Ryan cried, grabbing his arm, “Look at me, Ray!”   


“I’m sorry!” the lad screamed, “Let me go! Don’t hurt me!”

“Ray, ray!! Calm down, deep breaths, look at me.”

“No!!” Ray continued, tears streaming down, “I didn’t mean it! Don’t hurt me, I’ll try harder, I’ll change, I’ll do good!!”

Ray felt himself get pulled into Ryan’s arms, and the gent held onto him tightly. He was shaking, breathing heavily, and Ray thought he saw tears in his eyes too.

 

“Ray,” he murmured out, “Calm down. You’re okay. I’m here, you’re okay. Nobody will hurt you.”

Ray sat there, staring up at the stars. He slowly reached up to place his hands on Ryan’s back, to make sure this was real. He felt numb. He was confused.

“Rye?” he said, but it came out hoarse and weak. 

“I’m here,” he whispered, “I got you.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault. You’re okay.”

“I killed Geoff.”

“He knows you didn’t mean it.”

“But I killed him.”

“He came back.”

“But what if he didn’t.”

“He did.”

“But what if--”

 

Ryan pulled away, and held onto Ray’s shoulders tightly, looking into his eyes. They were such a pretty blue.

“No what if’s,” Ryan said, “What matters is now.”

 

Ray felt everything explode all at once.

 

He cried and cried and cried. He didn’t stop crying, not when Ryan pulled him back into a hug, not when Ryan began to murmur it was going to be okay. He cried and cried until he thought he would stop, but he didn’t.

Ryan just let him cry his heart out.

* * *

When they got back home, nobody was there.

 

“We were all looking for you,” Ryan murmured, “The others are still out. You’ve been gone for two nights Ray.”

Ray just looked at his reflection in the window. He looked like shit, a mess, and he felt smaller and smaller with each passing minute.

“I’m sorry,” he managed out, voice barely above a whisper. 

“No. You’re okay,” Ryan said, as he led Ray into his own room. Once inside, the gent began to help clean Ray up with a wet towel, wipe away the dried blood, dirt, sweat and tears. Ray shrugged off his jacket and jeans, settling for the light t-shirt and boxers on the bed. Ryan left the room for a bit, before bringing him a water bottle.

Ray chugged that bottle like no tomorrow.

 

A few moments passed, Ryan sitting next to Ray, quiet. Eventually though, Ray had to break the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he began, and before Ryan could say a thing, he quickly held his hand up to continue, “I flipped out. Big time. It was bad.”

“... I know,” Ryan said, “Geoff told me. I got so mad at him for pushing, for asking that dumb question. It’s a subject he had no right to touch.”

“But it’s something that’s affected me, that’s made me this way.”

“But forcing you to talk about it was not necessary.”

Ray looked at his water bottle, the water sloshing around. He could almost see his face.

 

“I fucked up,” Ray murmured, “Panicked. I saw her, y’know. My mom. I shot Geoff cause I thought… I thought…”

“Geoff told me. He knows.”

Ray pulled his knees up and held onto them tightly. Fuck.

“I want to give up,” Ray said, “I’m so tired. What’s the point in living?” 

“You should find the answer by continuing to live.”

“But that’s so stressful. It’s draining.”

“You have to continue. You’re immortal anyways. Find the answer, keep going until you find it.”

“But I’ll make mistakes. I’ll fail again and again.”

“You can learn from them. You can become better.”

“But I--”

“No more but’s. You need to stop doubting yourself. Things are different now Ray. No one will hurt you.”

“What if though.”

“I promise. Nothing will happen.”

Ray closed his eyes, and leaned against Ryan.

 

“I’m tired,” he said.

“Then sleep,” Ryan replied.

“But then I’d never want to wake up.”

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because you have to live.”

“Even if I’m a burden?”

“ _I_ want you to live.”

 

A tear rolled down Ray’s eye.

“Okay,” he murmured, and allowed himself to sleep. 

He didn't dream that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually had some of the things ray's mom in this fic said to me by my own mother... and my tongue actually is fucked up, lolol. like i said, this fic is just me venting and using ray as an outlet. it helps writing this. i should do it again.
> 
> (contact me at oceanicmarina.tumblr.com!)

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment on what you think! was it good, was it bad, i dunno. i've read this a billion times now so. 
> 
> (contact me at oceanicmarina.tumblr.com!)


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